Like all veterans, I struggled to adapt to civilian life after seven years and three hardship assignments. The big breakthrough was when I realized civilians had rank; they just didn’t wear it on their collar. I still have many traits from my time in the Army. I address people I do not know as Sir or Madam, walk with a 30” step at an Army cadence, keep my hair short, my shoes shined, shirts starched, and stand at ease when relaxed. When projects get behind, people will tell you there is still more than a wee bit of the Sergeant left in me. Vietnam was a very unpopular war, and many people took that out on the veterans. For the record, we did not start that war and what we did was serve our country. In the 70s, the Army required in-uniform travel, which brought out the worst in some people. I vividly remember going through San Francisco Airport after Vietnam and having a long-haired, poorly-mannered guy spit on me and call me a baby killer. At 5’ 11” and 195 pounds in peak Military fitness, let’s just say his day ended poorly. This problem also followed veterans in employment, and I know jobs I was not considered for because of my Vietnam service. It was not until September 11, 2001, that this changed, and people started to respect the Military. It is not lost on me or any veteran I know that our oath of service has no expiration date

This assignment started great but ended poorly. By mid-1975, I was promoted to SSG/E-6 and was reassigned to the 402nd MP Company as the Supply Sergeant. At the time of my promotion, I had just turned 22 (age 22 years and 16 days), and I believe I was the youngest SSG in the Army. I was on a fast track and had a plan to get to CSM, but something else happened instead. One day I fell to the ground in pain from a bowel obstruction. The next day I woke up with a colostomy and a very different future in front of me. Over the next two years, I was told that parts of my intestines stopped moving, resulting in 6 more resected intestinal surgeries over 2.5 years. My doctors believed that this was either viral or bacterial and was probably a result of the two tours in southeast Asia. Years later, I would learn that my first surgery was much more common in Asia and very rare in the United States. Regardless of why my military career crashed and burned in July 1978. The Army would not let me reenlist, nor would they medically discharge me, leaving me to resolve the issue with the VA, which took over a year.

In retrospect, Thailand was the best assignment I had in the Army. I learned to Sky Dive and SCUBA Dive and got serious about PT, running more than 100 miles a month. Camp Samae San was ocean front property with first-class accommodations, and the mess hall was the best restaurant in the area. The schedule was light, with lots of time for free-time activities. Thailand was overstaffed, and they started to reduce staff as I arrived, and few wanted to leave. I was one of the lucky ones because I had reenlisted for the assignment; they had to keep me there for a regular tour.

I grew up in Anaheim, California, and just finished a tour in Vietnam, so arriving at Fort Carson in the winter was a new cold experience. After weeks of shaking uncontrollably, I slowly adjusted to my new norm. The Army eased people returning from certain areas of Vietnam back into the Army. They knew it took time to decompress. Technically, we were in the 4th Infantry Division, but our unit did not go on field exercises and people transferred out when the First Sergeant decided the person had decompressed. 1SGs are not known for their mental health skills, but his decisions were pretty solid. Our barracks were a collection of MOSs that are not normally found together. We had MPs, Infantry, Artillery Teams, Rangers, and Aircrews, to name a few. If we had a mission, we did not know what it was, and the MOSs and slots did not match. The only Infantry-like thing we did during this time was to climb to the top of Pikes Peak in full gear. If the goal was to expend energy, this served that mission. The one thing we had a lot of was medals awarded. Every few weeks, someone would get a bronze or silver star for something crazy they did in Vietnam. After 4-6 months, people would get reassigned to a regular unit assuming the 1SG approved. While at Fort Carson, I learned to ski, white water rafting/body surfing. I reenlisted to go to Thailand and started taking my Army career seriously.

The first night in-country started with a rocket attack that was beyond frightening at the time. The next year would teach me that was probably my safest day in-country. Stepping off the plane in DaNang was a heat and humidity shock that will never be forgotten, nor will the rest of the experience. After landing in DaNang, I was sent to CanTho, a helicopter airfield in the southern delta region. We were responsible for security and supplies for remote fire bases and air operations. I rotated from Armorer to Guard Duty to Perimeter Patrols and then did that over and over. It was boring most of the time, except for when it was not. Vietnam could go from boring to adrenalin pumping in seconds. As an Armorer, I maintained weapons and ensured that a bullet came out when the trigger was pulled. Guard Duty was mostly boring but could shift to exciting in seconds. We had problems with sniper fire from off-post, which would keep everyone up for hours, and Charlie knew this. During the day, it was common for a squad to go through areas where we thought fire came from and make it less usable. We gardened the jungle with defoliants and homemade napalm (gasoline & tide). Every day we would have one of these duties. The patrols rarely encountered problems because they were just off the base with coverage from the guard posts. Firefights were rare and over quickly because Charlie never wanted full-frontal contact, and he was not stupid. This does not mean Charlie would not take a shot at a patrol, but it was one round and run. An individual AK-47 is no match for overlapping M-60 machine guns from the guard towers and a squad of M-16s. The sniper fire and mortars made the quality of life poor because of the loss of sleep. You could still get killed in CanTho, but there were plenty of worse places. The attraction for Charlie were the helicopters on the airfield and the ammo stored on base.

AIT (Advanced Individual Training) was at Fort Lee, Virginia, and was a perfect example of the Army training method. In the Army, you repeat the skill until it becomes muscle memory. The theory is that when you need the skill, it will instantly become the way you react. When training troops to run into the fight, this is what you want, and Fort Lee had this perfected to an art form. We took apart and reassembled all the weapons in the Army inventory until we could do that blindfolded. The NCOs in AIT were just like the Drill Sergeants in basic training, only with manners. They were very demanding but with noticeably higher respect. By the end of this training, I knew every part of an M-14, M-16, M-60, M-203, and M-1911A1, and I could troubleshoot a problem, take it apart, and reassemble it with a blindfold on. During AIT, I thought this was overkill, but it turned out to be a life-saving skill in Vietnam.

Basic Training is where we morphed from civilians to soldiers. Each morning at 4 am, a charming Drill Sergeant would gently wake us with clanging trash can lids for a 5-mile stroll in full gear with our friends before a gourmet breakfast. We learned to keep a straight face as the Drill Sergeant screamed into our face for missing one hair on our face when shaving. We learned all sorts of cool things like how to march together, crawl in the sand, fire weapons, and field first aid, to name a few. The draft was still in full force, so over half the people in my platoon were not there by choice. Some of these had trouble adjusting to the new authority structure. The Army was okay with this because they kept recycling them until they mastered their new reality.